Following Her
by Mari9117
Summary: Voldemort has won the war. As a prisoner, Hermione unexpectedly meets up with Draco. There, they talk about what went wrong in their relationship. Who knew love wasn't enough? Oneshot


Following Her

Disclaimer: I am new to this so let's just keep the story straight. I do not own Harry Potter and/or its criteria.

Author's note: This is my first one. Yay me! I know that I tend to contradict myself a lot in the story, but let's just say that it's my way of making sure you are paying attention! ;) Oh yeah, review! Prequel next?

Clutching a lifeless bundle, she sat in the corner of the dark, damp and cold dungeon that used to be her old potions classroom in Hogwarts. That is, before the Dark Lord Voldemort won the war and made the great hall of Hogwarts his throne.

Muggleborns, blood traitors or anyone on the light side that survived were thrown into the dungeons as prisoners. Some were taken out every so often, and you can imagine some of the things done to them. They were taken out to be tortured, raped and be forced to tell any secrets that could lead to even more power for the Dark Lord. But they were never taken out to die. Death-eaters would never spare a person of lower rank to be swiftly killed by the Avada. They had to suffer until they died on their own.

Over the past couple months, her somewhat auburn gold hair curly hair had turned to thin, brittle, and lifeless strands. She never fussed with anything about her physical appearance anymore. Hermione Granger had transformed from a beautiful, slim, well-rounded individual to a bony, miserable, and raggy being.

A freezing cold gust of wind with a few remnants of raindrops blew in through the barred window, jerking the 23-year-old awake from a half-sleep. That rhythmic sound of filthy water dripping from the rotting ceiling reminded Hermione of the hell-hole she was living in and the life she was to live through until that wonderful day in which darkness will accept her soul forever. She looked down to her lap and opened the bundle to make sure that her one-month-old baby boy was still alive. Apparently the devil took his soul faster than her would hers. She let out a small, short, high-pitched gasp. But no tears were produced.

They were gone. Every one of them. The order. Ginny. Neville. Ron. Harry. She was the only one that had seen him be murdered by Voldemort. Everyone else was dropping dead until she and Harry were the only ones left of the fighting light side. Despite the small bump in her stomach, she fought. She was fighting against Bellatrix Lestrange and a few others. She was forced to surrender by the fact that she was greatly outnumbered. Harry was yelling at her from across the field to not do anything foolish. She wanted to keep on fighting. She didn't care if she was outnumbered or the first move she made to pick up her wand would give her a one-way ticket to the graveyard. But she knew Harry was right. Seeing her be killed would make Harry all the more weak -- physically and psychologically. He had loved her like a sister. They had a special bond. So, she surrendered for Harry's sake - only to see him die a very painful death.

Of course she shed tears for the dead. But it was no use to anyone at this point. They couldn't grieve on the topic of death when it was, in fact, what they were awaiting themselves.

She clutched the stiff body in hopes that he could somehow come back and bring her with him. Unfortunately though, that wouldn't happen.

The heavy metal door swung open. A few death-eaters came in to pick whom they would torture today. Today was Hermione's lucky day. Without attempting to resist she was dragged off by a heavy-set, strong built man. He smelled like tobacco and vodka…a little too much vodka and Hermione was guessing that he hadn't been close to a shower-tub for a few weeks.

He trudged along slowly through the halls that were once filled with happy paintings. They were now bare and sent off a cold feeling.

Unexpectedly the death-eater yelped and Hermione was released and pushed to the floor. She looked up to see the death eater looking at his dark mark.

"Son of a bitchin'-" he stopped suddenly now aware he was not alone. He straightened to look authoritative. "The Dark Lord has summoned me. He needs me now and I don't have time to bring you back, mudblood. You are to go back on your own and if there is any…funny business-so to speak- there will be consequences much worse than the cruciatus."

And with that, he sped off down another corridor.

Hermione, still clutching her dead baby, was left alone. She painfully got up and started walking the way they came, but still ignorant of the exact route back.

Wait, what was she doing? Going back to that place…to do…what? Hermione stopped and looked around. She was in a hall overlooking the moving staircases. So many memories but none of them brought her any emotion. She was almost immune to love, happiness and gloom. Almost.

She collapsed. She wanted to do anything. Be anywhere, but here. She had no reason to live anymore. She had nothing. She sat with her knees against her chest. Just resting. No thought filled her head. All she did was focus on breathing.

"Hermione," a blond-haired man said with a colorless tone. He, in a way, stated it. Subconsciously. He was focusing more on something else. A memory.

She didn't have to look up for she knew it was him. Draco Malfoy. Her empty head soon flooded with thoughts and memories of him. She wasn't really sure how he would react o seeing her again. Then again, she wasn't really sure exactly how she was reacting. Emotions suddenly sprung up in her body again. Sadness, resentment, pain, fury…cheer, hope, safety…love.

Draco cautiously walked over to her. He wasn't sure how she was feeling. She was so frail and it tore him apart to see her like this. She was skinny, malnourished and lifeless. He went over and sat next to her.

"Why are you out here? What's wrong?" Well no fucking duh. She was a prisoner. He couldn't help but be too blunt. He knew Hermione though…there was always more to her.

"What's the use?" Hermione started, choking on her words. "To go back there and suffer? Why can't death take me now? There gone…" she whispered the last, shaking her head side to side.

"Everyone. Even my child is dead," she hurled the bundle away. "And you. You. You took everything else away." She was now vividly remembering.

"Don't think that our…different paths weren't hard on me too," Draco tried to defend himself. Yet still comfort. But how? She was grieving about the light side. He was dedicated to the dark side. Right?

"Draco, that day…that day I never felt love again. I never felt anything…again…" she stared blankly ahead.

"Hermione, you were the only person I had ever loved. After…" he sighed. "I, too, never felt love again."

"I took it away from you and you took it away from me…we just never learned…" Hermione said meditatively.

Flashback: Ten Months ago

It was about an hour before the first of three battles of the war. Hermione was in front of the Shrieking Shack. She glanced down at her stomach, still pondering over how he would take the news. It wasn't noticeable but she knew.

Things were moving rapidly. All around. She hadn't seen him in two weeks. Everything was so…confusing. There was major rivalry between the light and dark side. It was now or never. You had to choose a side and stick with it.

A couple years before, during the early stages of their romance, they decided that they wouldn't deal with the political disputes. Not pick sides. Stay neutral, that is, until the real war started. This agreement was made, but they both knew in their minds that sooner or later they would have to both pick a side. Though the couple made a mutual agreement, Hermione always knew that her loyalty would be with the light side. Little did she know that Draco was doing the same but opposite. His loyalty would always lay with the Dark Lord Voldemort. Too bad neither knew of the other's decision.

It was late spring, early summer. Slightly breezy and cloudy and rain threatened to come down. Hermione's cloak blew in the wind and her hood gently glided off to flaunt her healthy, shiny and curly hair. It was still _very _thick but over the years it became a bit tamer. She was anxious for him to get there. She hadn't spoken or contacted him in a fortnight. And, in the wizarding world, a lot can change in a matter of two weeks. A lot.

"Hermione!" said a low manly yet somewhat happy voice from behind her. Not the usual voice Hermione was used to hearing. Something was different in this voice. She couldn't quite put her finger on it. Developed? Grown? Authoritative? Dark?

"Draco!" she whispered more to herself as reassurance. She turned around to see a man about six-two, his blonde hair resting lightly over his eyes. He had a slim and muscular body. Her heart filled with pure happiness. Now that Draco was there, they would get through this dark era together. She ran into his arms, and their lips immediately interlocked into a kiss. After a few moments, they reluctantly released, gasping for breath. She rested her head on his chest.

She was trembling, Draco noticed. He took special care to reassure her that everything was ok. Or, at least, it would be. He had a plan and, in the end, they would come out on top. But, for now, he was overwhelmed with the joy of their reunion. So much had happened…

The couple stood there. Still embracing each other. For what seemed like eternity. Ignorant to where they were and what was going on in the outside world. All they could focus on was how much they missed each other…their love.

"Draco…" Hermione half-whispered, looking up but still in his arms. She knew that moment couldn't last forever. She came back to reality.

"Hermione…the _real_ war is about to start. Everything is in chaos. Whatever you do around here…it depends on where your loyalties lie. They choose a side they support, but they stand alone…"

She looked into his eyes. Trying to read them…to see if they would reveal anything about what he was leading to…

He was explaining everything to her very carefully. In a way, beating around the bush. Just trying to make sure that he had her complete trust in this. No questions asked.

Desperately trying to listen to Draco's every word, Hermione found her mind wandering to a few questions she was anxious to ask.

"…and so when you visited your friends at the burrow, I started to think-"

"Draco, just get to it. Why did you run off, just leaving a note? Where did you go? What did you do?" Hermione was growing nervous. She wanted to leave the area. She didn't feel safe anymore.

Draco sighed. He wasn't exactly sure how he was going to say this. Still keeping Hermione close, he began.

"Hermione darling…" his mind still rapidly thinking. "For a while now I have been in contact with the Dark Lord." Draco stopped for a slight moment to let that sink in.

Hermione took a slight step back, disengaging them from the loving embrace. Her face showed no expression but her eyes were begging there to be a catch in what he just said. Finally he went on.

"I know that we made an agreement when we started a relationship. We vowed to each other that for as long as we could, we would not involve ourselves in political matters…thus staying neutral on the sides of the war. But, well, when we made that agreement, I always knew my loyalty would always be with the Dark Lord," Draco saw how Hermione's expression went from surprised, to fury, disappointment and distrust. Before she could speak, he began again.

"With his techniques, power, knowledge, loyal-" he stopped himself before he said the word 'death-eaters,' which may be a little too overwhelming for her. But Hermione knew too well. She looked up at Draco expectantly. "Followers. He can easily defeat Potter. The Lord is more…experienced. He knows the dark arts. Spells that Potter wouldn't even dream of resorting to."

"Please Draco…" Hermione held to his shoulders.

"Hermione, if the Dark Lord rules, we will live in an even better world," Draco persuaded, though he half-believed what he was saying. "I am his right-hand man. I…I am considered higher rank than my father. I mean, when he is our ruler, I will turn even more powerful and influential…and then _I_ can defeat him. I will soon be the ruler, and you by my side. We can lead, and make the world however we want. It will be peaceful…and happy" he gave her a hopeful and slightly expectant glance. _Everything will be fine now. She will understand and we will get through this together…together…_

Hermione stiffened after all of this digested. She stepped back but Draco was intent on holding her waist. She gently took his hands from her back to free herself. She looked him in the eye, her right hand on her still-flat stomach, as if to protect her baby.

"Please…you know better…remember when we were seventeen? Those peaceful years at Hogwarts? We were living in a world led by the light side. Weren't you happy then? Because, from what I saw…you were the happiest anyone had ever seen you...you know it…and I know it…" she was clinging desperately. Trying to bring him back…Draco became a bit frustrated. _She was supposed to agree with me. Did she not trust me? Why can't she see that everything will work out? _All of this was pounding in his skull.

"Hermione darling!" Draco said a little more forcefully. "If we…or you…stay with the light side, you will die or be tortured for the rest of your short life…because you are a muggleborn. I am giving you the key to a more powerful and content life!" The couple were yelling at each other now.

"No! You are making me choose between my friends and the light side where I truly belong…or…or our future together…which is…unpromising." Hermione was breathing heavily.

"Join me and you _will_ have a future!" Draco was furious at her decision.

"No," Hermione was pleading. "Please, don't do this." She looked down at her stomach. _I will not let my child live a life of hell._

"Ahh!" Hermione let out a distressing scream. Her stomach hurt. A lot. The baby. She became lightheaded. Her body was focusing on the gestation pain. Clutching her stomach, she collapsed to her knees, gasping for air. She closed her eyes and let her mind regain psychological strength. She was strained of much mental strength during the dispute. She now realized her surroundings. She was cold. The wind was blowing all around her, making the shrieking shack tilt dangerously to the side. The war of lords was brewing. She looked up from the earth, but Draco was gone.

End Flashback

"Draco, I have been dying ever since you left that note," Hermione turned to look into his eyes for the first time. They looked dull, tired and hallow. What Draco loved about her were her eyes. Getting lost in them…gazing into her honey-brown orbs got him through his Hogwarts days. Hermione's eyes used to hold a spectacular glint that showed her pure happiness. It was like a bullet through his heart to see her like this.

They held each other's gaze for a few seconds. Draco's head was swarming with thoughts and feelings that he wanted to express. It was just so hard, because in the end he knew he couldn't do anything about it. They kept their gaze.

"Hermione…" Draco savored saying her name. "If I had known it would turn out like this, I wouldn't have done what I did. I wish I can go back and change-"

"Yes, but you can't!" Hermione said angrily with a hint of disappointment. She was the first to break the eye contact. "You can't always fantasize on what _would_ have happened. You need to lean to deal with what is put in front of you."

"I-"

"I can't handle this anymore," Hermione interrupted again. She turned in her spot and looked him straight in the eye. "Please, just kill me now. End my misery, sorrow, life and self-pity. I want to escape this world forever." She was begging him.

"No, we can-"

"Please!"

Draco nodded. It was her time and nothing could change it. The love of his life wanted to go. He almost instantly knew what he would do once she left the mortal world. Follow her.

He shakily took out his wand and turned to face her in a better position. He pointed it towards her and whispered "Avada Kedavra."

Pain washed over Hermione's body. A most excruciating physical pain that also gnawed at her mental state, and, mind you, she has experienced the cruciatus quite a few many times. She slid down until she was lying on the floor. She gasped for her last breaths and as each one came and went, she could feel her body and soul become more and more detached.

From a distance she could faintly feel someone caressing her cheek soothingly.

"Who was the father?" she heard a remote voice whisper.

"You, Draco," she managed to peacefully murmur, before escaping into total darkness.

A wave of suffering guilt washed over Draco Malfoy.

"I love you," he looked down at her withering body. He took a dagger from his robes and plunged it through his chest.


End file.
